Can you remember your first dream? I don't mean a dream that you wake up yelling for momma or a dream where you're sitting on top of a pile of chocolate disappointed when you wake up in your cluttered little room. The type of dream that I'm talking about is the kind of dream that moves you to become something. I once had a dream. . .
The smell of the city breathed through the window curtains. The orange warm light from the streetlights filled the room. We just moved from a few blocks away. Momma, Dawn, and I hauled all of our belongings up five floors. It took a couple of hours to walk them down the block and up the stairs. It was so hot and I was exhausted, so exhausted that I just crawled into bed after dinner. My mattress was on the floor the way it has always been. It's not bad, you know, you don't have to worry about falling out of bed and we'd never lived anyplace that had cockroaches. It also feels cooler on the ground, nobody thinks about that but it's true. Well sleeping in a new room is strange. Do you know that feeling you get when you sleep in a new room for the first time? Like, the outside world is different. That is the feeling I had. In my room there was space for a bed and the box where my clothes were kept but that was about it. There was a whirring of a motor and car doors shutting, the smell was about the same but I noticed I couldn't smell the sweet smell of Scotts' Jamaican Bakery. The curtains seemed to change color in the light and I noticed morning was on it's way. I thought about about school our vacation was almost over and although I had only moved a few blocks my mother told me I would be going to a new school because we lived too far away from my old school now. She told me that this school would be nicer than the last one I went to and that it was only a five minute walk. I was skeptical. School had never been my favorite place to be not because I didn't like the school part but because of the other kids. Sure I had some friends but overall I thought that most kids were just mean and out to get me. It always seemed like something embarrassing was about to happen. I thought that there was no way that this new school was different.
I slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. We didn't have a shower curtain up yet so I just splashed some water on my face to wake up. On my way back to my room I could hear momma up and stirring in the kitchen. I thought back to the days when I would be momm and poppa talking about their days and laughing about stories. Things defintely were different now that poppa was away. Poppa was in the army and he had been sent to Iraq about three months ago. At the time it was hard to imagine him leaving that he really wouldn't be here for days and then the days turned into weeks and it never got easier. Every hour poppa was away things we're different and we couldn't wait for him to come back home in a few months hopefully before my birthday. Although it wasn't a bad room that didn't mean it wasn't hard to sleep. The city seemed different. There was a whirring of a motor and car doors shutting, the smell was about the same but I noticed I couldn't smell Scotts' Jamaican Bakery. The spicy greasy smell. The curtains seemed to change color in the light and I noticed morning was on it's way.
My sister had her own room down the hall and my mother had converted the living room into a third bedroom by draping a sheet across dividing the room into two.
"Momma" I wispered. "What time do I have to leave for school?" She moaned "7:30, go back to bed"
I looked at the alarm clock on upside down box the makeshift nightstand.
It was six am. I decided that I would slip outside and see what was up.
I walked down the stairs silently. Trying not to creak the old wooden staircase. The banister was sticky and the stairwell had a dusty smell of something that might get cleaned once a year, maybe. As I hit the landing and opened up the door cool moist morning air poured into me. If you ever have lived in an old apartment building you know the feeling that I'm talking about. You forget the the world is not the sweltering heat of your walls. I stepped outside and checked out the street. Typical morning stuff a garbage truck, a car puttered at the stop light. I walked down the street checking out the store fronts. A hotdog stand, a dollar store, a laudry mat, an empty building, an alley filled with dumpeters, and a little breakfast place. Through the glass I could see the bacon and eggs on the griddle and I remembered sitting in my kitchen, watching my father cook breakfast. Mom never cooked breakfast, she said cooking you dinner everyday of your life was enough, you could have a bowl of cereal or some fruit but there was no way that she was getting up early to cook.
I wandered the streets and thought about my father. It felt like he had left us years ago but it had only been 8 months.
As I day dreamed as piece of something hit me in the back of the head and I went out.
I woke up in a hospital bed. My head was throbbing and I felt like I had blood in my nose and in my eyes. The smell of blood and the stinging in my eyes was unbelievable. I looked around and didn't recognize anyone in the room. I felt sick like someone had kicked my in the stomach. What happened to me? Where am I? I wondered.
A woman in a white coat came through the open door and looked at me. I tried to open my mouth and a pain shot through my jaw. A moan came from inside me it didn't sound like me.
Settle down she said to me and she walked over. It looks like you're going to be OK. I stared at her she was talking to me like I had some idea of what happened. I think she could see in my eyes that I was confused.
You got hit in the head by a brick that fell off the top of an abandonded building. You'r lucky a second later and that brick might have hit the top of your head instead of the back of it. Lucky! What was she talking about I was in the hospital couldn't she see what was going on. How could this be worse. I lifted up my hand and saw the needle tucked into my vein. Then I passed out. I guess when you've been hit in the head with a brick that fell five stories they don't really worry about you not liking needles but seeing that needle in my arm was the most distirbing thing that I could have imagined. I once even locked myself in a bathroom so that I didn't have to give blood. I hated needles.
As I lay in bed this time alone, no nurse. I looked out the window near my bed. From my window I could see a building in the distance. I had never noticed this building before and it didn't look like something that was near my house. At that moment I got really nervous. Where was my mother why wasn't she here. I looked around the room for some sign of where I was located. St. Francis hospital the back of a clipboard attached to the foot of my bed. I know St. Francis was not too far from my house. We had taken the bus by the hospital several times. I looked back at the window at the tower. What was this building. It reminded me of a fairy tale. All that I could see what a faded white tower poking through the trees like a centinal. I imagined a centinal at the top surveying the city below. I tucked my arms under the sheets and so that they cacooned my body. I lay there dreaming of this castle in the clouds.
Ch.3
"Wake up, Charlie!" my mother scolded me from the foot of my bed. "I've been calling you for 10 minutes! Your father is going to be here any minute to pick you up."
I heard her 10 minutes ago, in fact, I had been awake for a while trying to figure out a way out of this.
"Mom, I don't."
"Don't pull any of that crap today Charlie you're going with your father."
My father and I didn't really have the best relationship ever since he left my mother and I about a year ago. My mother was devistated. My father seemed reengergized but not in a good way. He never seemed to have time for me he was either working or playing golf or just too busy. Today, the plan was, my father was going to take me to Lake Compounce. Lake Compounce is an amusement ride park in Connecticut. If you don't live in CT you probably have never heard of it but it's alright.
Maybe today would be alright. I rolled out of bed threw on some shorts and a t-shirt. "Ready to go" I yelled in an annoyed hollar.
My mother came into the hallway to have a look at me.
"Aren't you going to shower?"
"Nope"
"Get out of the clothes and get in the shower! I don't know what's gotten into you lately!"
I stared at her bewlidered. I often stared at her bewildered, I think that is how it is when your 12."
The hot shower did me some good and I began to be more optimistic about the day. My father and I hadn't gone anywhere like this before and maybe it was exactly what we needed. Some time together. I threw my clothes back on and headed down the stairs. Our home was what my friends called a McMansion. I guess it was pretty large but all of the houses in my neighborhood looked the same so I never really paid too much attention.
I ran into my mother in the kitchen. She was wairing a golf outfit. She never used to golf until she met some guy at work who asked her if she liked golfing. My mother had never golfed a day in her life but she said she loved golfing. I remember the day because she made me get off the computer because she needed to buy a golf outfit and oh yeah some golf clubs. The next few days were followed by golf lessons and her swinging a club in the backyard trying to get it just right. When my mom put her mind to something she was pretty good at picking it up quick.
As I sat on a stool eating my cereal a car horn honked. It was my dad. He never sat foot in the house anymore. He lost the house in the divorce and he always seemed bitter considering my mother hadn't worked a day in 15 years. I told my mom good bye and I lover her.
Out in the car my dad had his blue tooth headset wedged onto his ear. I entered the car and he gave me a look of, do not utter a word! I understood and slouched into the cool leather seat. We drove for a while my dad nodding and commenting on some project he had going on in Ireland. I watched the tree's pass by my car window. Finally he said. "Alright, you ready for today."
"I guess"
"What do you mean you guess"
My father generally was not one for small talk so this whole conversation seemed pointless.
"I mean, I guess" I muttered "I guess it will be fun"
"I don't understand what your problem is."
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
Something always bothered my about my father and I don't know really how to put it into words. It goes like this. My father never hugs me. Not ever. I can't remember hugging my dad and even giving him a handshake sometimes to say hello or goodbye is awakward. I don't know why this is but I've tried to break threw but ever time I try to hug him it just comes out like a big car accident and even more awkard than not talking.
When we got to the amusement park the lot was pretty full. It was a Saturday and lots of families would be heading to the park to spend the day together. My dad parked the car and we walked up to the gate. You could see rollercoasters poking out of the tops of the trees and you already could hear people laughing and screaming enjoying the rides. My father bought our tickets and I became exiced. "Where do you want to go first?" he asked. I told him the roller coaster called the Boogieman. The Boogieman was the best roller coaster at Lake Compounce. It was the tallest fastest most upside down roller coaster. He agreed and there was a glint in his eye. I surge of happiness came through my body and I felt great.
We headed into line at the Boogieman. We only had to wait about 10 minutes. Most of the time we just watched people on the ride. Their hair whipped back, the faces full of big smiles and big screams. When we got to the coaster we got into the first car and the saftey bar closed down over our sholders. I love this kind of roller coaster because you know as soon as those harnesses clamp down over your sholders there is no going back.
I smiled at my dad he smiled back.
The ride was amazing. We lurched we screaming my eyes watered from the wind and laughing and screaming. My father and I got off the coaster staggering and laughing. He reached down into his pocket. His BlackBerry was gone.
My mom called his BlackBerry his CrackBerry and I often thought it had something to do with them getting divorced.
Can you remember your first dream? I don't mean a dream that you wake up yelling for momma or a dream where you're sitting on top of a pile of chocolate disappointed when you wake up in your cluttered little room. The type of dream that I'm talking about is the kind of dream that moves you to become something. I once had a dream. . .
The smell of the city breathed through the window curtains. The orange warm light from the streetlights filled the room. We just moved from a few blocks away. Momma, Dawn, and I hauled all of our belongings up five floors. It took a couple of hours to walk them down the block and up the stairs. It was so hot and I was exhausted, so exhausted that I just crawled into bed after dinner. My mattress was on the floor the way it has always been. It's not bad, you know, you don't have to worry about falling out of bed and we'd never lived anyplace that had cockroaches. It also feels cooler on the ground, nobody thinks about that but it's true. Well sleeping in a new room is strange. Do you know that feeling you get when you sleep in a new room for the first time? Like, the outside world is different. That is the feeling I had. In my room there was space for a bed and the box where my clothes were kept but that was about it. There was a whirring of a motor and car doors shutting, the smell was about the same but I noticed I couldn't smell the sweet smell of Scotts' Jamaican Bakery. The curtains seemed to change color in the light and I noticed morning was on it's way. I thought about about school our vacation was almost over and although I had only moved a few blocks my mother told me I would be going to a new school because we lived too far away from my old school now. She told me that this school would be nicer than the last one I went to and that it was only a five minute walk. I was skeptical. School had never been my favorite place to be not because I didn't like the school part but because of the other kids. Sure I had some friends but overall I thought that most kids were just mean and out to get me. It always seemed like something embarrassing was about to happen. I thought that there was no way that this new school was different.
I slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. We didn't have a shower curtain up yet so I just splashed some water on my face to wake up. On my way back to my room I could hear momma up and stirring in the kitchen. I thought back to the days when I would be momm and poppa talking about their days and laughing about stories. Things defintely were different now that poppa was away. Poppa was in the army and he had been sent to Iraq about three months ago. At the time it was hard to imagine him leaving that he really wouldn't be here for days and then the days turned into weeks and it never got easier. Every hour poppa was away things we're different and we couldn't wait for him to come back home in a few months hopefully before my birthday. Although it wasn't a bad room that didn't mean it wasn't hard to sleep. The city seemed different. There was a whirring of a motor and car doors shutting, the smell was about the same but I noticed I couldn't smell Scotts' Jamaican Bakery. The spicy greasy smell. The curtains seemed to change color in the light and I noticed morning was on it's way.
My sister had her own room down the hall and my mother had converted the living room into a third bedroom by draping a sheet across dividing the room into two.
"Momma" I wispered. "What time do I have to leave for school?" She moaned "7:30, go back to bed"
I looked at the alarm clock on upside down box the makeshift nightstand.
It was six am. I decided that I would slip outside and see what was up.
I walked down the stairs silently. Trying not to creak the old wooden staircase. The banister was sticky and the stairwell had a dusty smell of something that might get cleaned once a year, maybe. As I hit the landing and opened up the door cool moist morning air poured into me. If you ever have lived in an old apartment building you know the feeling that I'm talking about. You forget the the world is not the sweltering heat of your walls. I stepped outside and checked out the street. Typical morning stuff a garbage truck, a car puttered at the stop light. I walked down the street checking out the store fronts. A hotdog stand, a dollar store, a laudry mat, an empty building, an alley filled with dumpeters, and a little breakfast place. Through the glass I could see the bacon and eggs on the griddle and I remembered sitting in my kitchen, watching my father cook breakfast. Mom never cooked breakfast, she said cooking you dinner everyday of your life was enough, you could have a bowl of cereal or some fruit but there was no way that she was getting up early to cook.
I wandered the streets and thought about my father. It felt like he had left us years ago but it had only been 8 months.
As I day dreamed as piece of something hit me in the back of the head and I went out.
I woke up in a hospital bed. My head was throbbing and I felt like I had blood in my nose and in my eyes. The smell of blood and the stinging in my eyes was unbelievable. I looked around and didn't recognize anyone in the room. I felt sick like someone had kicked my in the stomach. What happened to me? Where am I? I wondered.
A woman in a white coat came through the open door and looked at me. I tried to open my mouth and a pain shot through my jaw. A moan came from inside me it didn't sound like me.
Settle down she said to me and she walked over. It looks like you're going to be OK. I stared at her she was talking to me like I had some idea of what happened. I think she could see in my eyes that I was confused.
You got hit in the head by a brick that fell off the top of an abandonded building. You'r lucky a second later and that brick might have hit the top of your head instead of the back of it. Lucky! What was she talking about I was in the hospital couldn't she see what was going on. How could this be worse. I lifted up my hand and saw the needle tucked into my vein. Then I passed out. I guess when you've been hit in the head with a brick that fell five stories they don't really worry about you not liking needles but seeing that needle in my arm was the most distirbing thing that I could have imagined. I once even locked myself in a bathroom so that I didn't have to give blood. I hated needles.
As I lay in bed this time alone, no nurse. I looked out the window near my bed. From my window I could see a building in the distance. I had never noticed this building before and it didn't look like something that was near my house. At that moment I got really nervous. Where was my mother why wasn't she here. I looked around the room for some sign of where I was located. St. Francis hospital the back of a clipboard attached to the foot of my bed. I know St. Francis was not too far from my house. We had taken the bus by the hospital several times. I looked back at the window at the tower. What was this building. It reminded me of a fairy tale. All that I could see what a faded white tower poking through the trees like a centinal. I imagined a centinal at the top surveying the city below. I tucked my arms under the sheets and so that they cacooned my body. I lay there dreaming of this castle in the clouds.
Ch.3
"Wake up, Charlie!" my mother scolded me from the foot of my bed. "I've been calling you for 10 minutes! Your father is going to be here any minute to pick you up."
I heard her 10 minutes ago, in fact, I had been awake for a while trying to figure out a way out of this.
"Mom, I don't."
"Don't pull any of that crap today Charlie you're going with your father."
My father and I didn't really have the best relationship ever since he left my mother and I about a year ago. My mother was devistated. My father seemed reengergized but not in a good way. He never seemed to have time for me he was either working or playing golf or just too busy. Today, the plan was, my father was going to take me to Lake Compounce. Lake Compounce is an amusement ride park in Connecticut. If you don't live in CT you probably have never heard of it but it's alright.
Maybe today would be alright. I rolled out of bed threw on some shorts and a t-shirt. "Ready to go" I yelled in an annoyed hollar.
My mother came into the hallway to have a look at me.
"Aren't you going to shower?"
"Nope"
"Get out of the clothes and get in the shower! I don't know what's gotten into you lately!"
I stared at her bewlidered. I often stared at her bewildered, I think that is how it is when your 12."
The hot shower did me some good and I began to be more optimistic about the day. My father and I hadn't gone anywhere like this before and maybe it was exactly what we needed. Some time together. I threw my clothes back on and headed down the stairs. Our home was what my friends called a McMansion. I guess it was pretty large but all of the houses in my neighborhood looked the same so I never really paid too much attention.
I ran into my mother in the kitchen. She was wairing a golf outfit. She never used to golf until she met some guy at work who asked her if she liked golfing. My mother had never golfed a day in her life but she said she loved golfing. I remember the day because she made me get off the computer because she needed to buy a golf outfit and oh yeah some golf clubs. The next few days were followed by golf lessons and her swinging a club in the backyard trying to get it just right. When my mom put her mind to something she was pretty good at picking it up quick.
As I sat on a stool eating my cereal a car horn honked. It was my dad. He never sat foot in the house anymore. He lost the house in the divorce and he always seemed bitter considering my mother hadn't worked a day in 15 years. I told my mom good bye and I lover her.
Out in the car my dad had his blue tooth headset wedged onto his ear. I entered the car and he gave me a look of, do not utter a word! I understood and slouched into the cool leather seat. We drove for a while my dad nodding and commenting on some project he had going on in Ireland. I watched the tree's pass by my car window. Finally he said. "Alright, you ready for today."
"I guess"
"What do you mean you guess"
My father generally was not one for small talk so this whole conversation seemed pointless.
"I mean, I guess" I muttered "I guess it will be fun"
"I don't understand what your problem is."
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
Something always bothered my about my father and I don't know really how to put it into words. It goes like this. My father never hugs me. Not ever. I can't remember hugging my dad and even giving him a handshake sometimes to say hello or goodbye is awakward. I don't know why this is but I've tried to break threw but ever time I try to hug him it just comes out like a big car accident and even more awkard than not talking.
When we got to the amusement park the lot was pretty full. It was a Saturday and lots of families would be heading to the park to spend the day together. My dad parked the car and we walked up to the gate. You could see rollercoasters poking out of the tops of the trees and you already could hear people laughing and screaming enjoying the rides. My father bought our tickets and I became exiced. "Where do you want to go first?" he asked. I told him the roller coaster called the Boogieman. The Boogieman was the best roller coaster at Lake Compounce. It was the tallest fastest most upside down roller coaster. He agreed and there was a glint in his eye. I surge of happiness came through my body and I felt great.
We headed into line at the Boogieman. We only had to wait about 10 minutes. Most of the time we just watched people on the ride. Their hair whipped back, the faces full of big smiles and big screams. When we got to the coaster we got into the first car and the saftey bar closed down over our sholders. I love this kind of roller coaster because you know as soon as those harnesses clamp down over your sholders there is no going back.
I smiled at my dad he smiled back.
The ride was amazing. We lurched we screaming my eyes watered from the wind and laughing and screaming. My father and I got off the coaster staggering and laughing. He reached down into his pocket. His BlackBerry was gone.
My mom called his BlackBerry his CrackBerry and I often thought it had something to do with them getting divorced.